SLICKVILLE.COM - Cuttin' It

It started simply enough. I was bored one night and was just surfing the 'net, chatting with friends and just looking around.

I logged on to a local chat room and found myself chatting with a guy about nothing in particular when he asked me about my haircut. He explained he was just doing a straw poll for his own amusement about how guys at college wore their hair.

To be honest, I never really did much with my hair. It is blond and rather thin so it just hangs on my head. I had it cut about every six weeks in a fairly ordinary nondescript style.

He fired a series of questions at me about how I had my hair cut as a kid, did my dad cut it ....no was the answer...did I wear it long at high school ....yes ....ever wear gel ..no ...the questions kept coming and I found I had to respond.

"Buddy you need a haircut and some advice on how to improve your style. Come over sometime and I will cut it for you. It is what I do for a living." He said finally.

"You free tomorrow morning buddy. Got to strike while the iron is hot!" He fired back.

"Yes." I said, more because I couldn't think of an excuse fast enough, than anything else or maybe because it was late and I was tired

He gave me his address and 'phone number and parted with "...see you in the morning."

I honestly was a bit stunned but decided I would call early in the morning and find some excuse not to turn up.

I really wasn't interested in having a haircut and especially not by some guy off the 'net.

I woke to the alarm at 7am. I had accidentally set it even though it was Saturday. "Damn.." I thought as I rolled over and thought about the things I had to do. Then I remembered the haircut thing.

I lazed in bed until 8am and dragged myself under the shower and after coffee and some toast decided to call the guy and tell him I wasn't coming. But his 'phone just rang ...no answer or answering machine

I decided I would send him an e-mail ...but as I logged on up came Yahoo and he messaged me ... "See you soon buddy...gotta get that hair cut you know!" Somehow I just couldn't tell him no.

Thankfully he was not too far away and after throwing on a clean t-shirt and jeans, I found myself at the front door of a large house in one of the better parts of town.

He was tall, at least six feet and dressed in a black T-shirt, which showed a very muscular chest and arms and camouflage pants. He wore combat boots that were so highly polished I could almost see my face in them.

I looked up at him. His green eyes were piercing. His hair was black and he wore it cut into an high taper and parted with a razor sharp part on the left side. It shone with brilliantine and the sheen matched the polish of his boots.

"Mmm that hair is a mess..." he said ushering me down the hall, his boots making a loud clomping noise on the bare polished boards.

We entered a room that looked like a barbershop. A large old-fashioned barber's chair sat in the middle facing a bench with an assortment of combs and scissors and hair products with a large mirror hanging on the wall.

There was a perfume that I remembered from my childhood but which I could not identify.

"Well buddy, take your jacket off and jump in the chair." He said with a large smile on his face.

Looking back I realize that right from the moment we started chatting on the 'net the night before that it was inevitable I would be sitting in his barber's chair.

He picked up a comb and moved around me. He began to comb my straggly fine blond hair.

He gripped my head firmly from behind. "You really need do something here buddy. You look a mess with it like this." He said firmly.

He swung the chair around so I could no longer see the mirror. And threw a starched blue and white striped barber's cape round me and in almost one movement placed paper tissues 'round my neck.

"Ok! Buddy let's get this sorted out. I think a neat parted style for you. Yes that is what you need." He said giving me no chance to dissent.

He picked up a pair of clippers and with the comb in hand he began to trim the hair on the back and sides of my head. The clippers made a gentle buzzing sound as he began. I watched as my blond hairs began to drift onto the cape.

It was something from my childhood. The perfume of the room...the vibration of the clippers as he ran them up and down my neck....the feeling of skin being exposed to fresh air for the first time in a long time. All of this brought back memories of many years ago, memories of trips to the barber with my father. But I never had it cut as short as it felt was happening now.

He turned of the clippers and continued using the comb and scissors. My ears were now exposed and I felt him trimming well above them.

He snipped away pushing my head forcefully around to get the position he wanted. He barely spoke and I said nothing as I sat in a daze and as my hair continued to fall down my front onto the cape.

"Already looking better!" He exclaimed as he combed my bangs back and trimmed them.

He combed my hair on top again and then picking up a spray bottle, sprayed water to damp my hair and continued cutting

Bit by bit I felt I was being transformed as he kept cutting, stopping only to re-comb or run his hands over my head.

He came around the front of me and with a final flourish finished cutting after ensuring my bangs looked right and the sides were evenly cut.

"Now that is a lot better." He said but he did not spin the chair to show me how I looked in the mirror.

He moved behind me and I heard water running and a hot wet towel wrapped the back and sides of my head. Somehow it felt warm and reassuring.

Then sound of a spray can and then the feel of foam being rubbed onto the back and sides of my head replaced the warmth of the towel.

I felt the gentle scraping of a razor. His hands were well practiced and he scraped my neck clean of hair and crisply shaved around my ears and neckline.

"Almost done son." He grinned as he stood in front of me. I hadn't been called "son" in many years but it felt good coming from him.

"Almost....but that hair needs something extra doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically.

I heard the sound of a jar being opened and then felt another spray of water on my head.

His big firm hands held my head as I felt something being rubbed into my scalp. The perfume was familiar and finally I recognized the smell of Brylcreem. This was the perfume that I had smelt but could not identify.

He rubbed it in and then with his comb parted my hair and combed it into a neat parted style like his own hair.

Two more times I felt dollops of creme being added until my hair was saturated with the smooth white stuff.

He continued to comb my hair again and again he parted and shaped my hair paying particular attention to my bangs, flipping them back to form a small quaff on my forehead.

He stood back, his pectorals and chest showing strongly under his black T-shirt.

"Now buddy, that is a decent haircut." He said as he spun the chair so I could see myself for the first time in the mirror.

I blinked in surprise. Gone was the scruffy looking haircut I had when I arrived only a little time before ...replaced by a sharp crisp Brylcreemed look. My back and sides had barely any hair and they glistened with the light touch of crème but it was my top hair that was really shining with the crème. The neat parted look was something out of the 40s. It felt so different and yet I was strangely attracted to it.

He removed the cape and tissues in a single sweep and I stood unable to take my eyes off the vision in the mirror.

He smiled broadly at my new look. "I knew you would like it son." He said in a fatherly tone. I could only nod agreement.

He saw it too and moved to the bench and pulled a comb from his back pocket, ran it under the tap and quickly smoothed the hairs returning them to their place.

I stood in awe of this man. His muscular body set off by the crisp look of his haircut, the highly polished boots and his sharply pressed camouflage trousers. He was a model of masculinity.

He moved to the cupboard in quick military style movements and removed two items.

He handed them to me. "You will be needing these from now on son." He said with a grin.

He ushered me to the door with the words "now remember... same time next week son!"

As I walked down the street to my car I saw another young man standing at the door. His scruffy brown bangs falling over his face.

I knew he would soon be sitting in that barber's chair and I smiled to myself as I ran my hands over my freshly creamed hair. I looked at the jar of Brylcreem. It would be time for a touch-up and more crème when I got home.

Cuttin' It
PART 2 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

I stood in front of the mirror. My new comb in my hand, the jar of Brylcreem open on the basin. I studied the creamy white substance and inhaled its perfume.

I breathed deeply and grabbed a dollop of the crème. I massaged it into my hair. It felt so strange to be doing this, but I wanted to recapture that moment at the barber's. That moment when I felt his hands run through my newly cut hair.

It was the next morning and my hair was still damp from the shower.

I took the comb and carefully parted my hair and tried to recreate the neat look I had when I left the barber's place.

I laughed. I didn't actually know his name. He never gave it to me. All I had was his Yahoo chat ID.

Just then my cell-phone, which was by my bed, rang.

The voice on the other end said "How you going this morning son?" It was my mysterious barber.

"Ummm ..fine …" I said as I stumbled for words.

"Getting that hair properly groomed today?" He said.

I ran my hand over my nicely greased hair. "Yes…" I said slightly unsure of myself.

"Bet it could do with another dollop of crème son. Why don't you go and do that while I wait on the line."

This took me aback a bit but without even thinking I said "Yes …"

I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom again and repeated the greasing ritual.

Feeling the soft crème in my hand as I massaged more into my hair. My blond hair was shining even more now as I combed it back into place feeling the tingle all over my body like the day before when his hands had put the first dollop of Brylcreem into my hair.

I returned to the cell-phone. I didn't understand it but I was shaking as he said "Bet that looks good son. You really like that feeling don't you?" He said quietly.

"Yes I do." I replied barely able to speak.

"Son, I think you need to come over today for me to check if you have done it right, don't you?"

"Yes …yes I should" I muttered.

"Yes I should Sir! Is how you should respond son!" he replied.

"Yes I should Sir" I repeated back to him.

"Be here at 1100 hours understood son?" he said forcefully.

"Yes Sir" I replied half scared, half excited at seeing him again.

"Good I will see you then son!" he replied.

"Yes Sir" I responded.

And the phone went dead.

I stood, in just my towel, shaking. What had just happened? What was I getting myself into?

At 10.30 I was again standing in front of the mirror ….combing my hair. I added a small portion of Brylcreem to my already greased hair and jumped in the car.

At 11am I pressed the buzzer and the door swung open.

"Hello Son." He said.

Like the day before he was dressed in highly polished army boots, camouflage pants but a white t-shirt this time. His black hair shone even more, if it were possible, than the day before.

He eyed me up and down. "Not bad son. At least you are punctual."

"Yes Sir." I replied as he ushered me down the hall.

I expected we would head for the room with the barber's chair but instead we moved passed it onto what looked like a home gym.

There were full-length mirrors on each wall except for one part of one wall, which had a window that let the sunlight in and which glinted off his black greased hair.

An assortment of gym equipment and weights littered the room.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and stood me in front of one of the mirrors. "Not bad son. Your hair looks ok! Not great but ok! And certainly better than when you arrived yesterday! But you could do something with that body. Take your t-shirt off and let me have a look at you. Do you ever work out son?

"No Sir" I replied sheepishly.

"You will son. I expect you to work on that body." He said as he ran his hands over my arms and chest. His touch was electric. I was shaking.

"So get down and give me fifty" he said briskly.

I looked at him …. "get down and give me fifty pushups son!" he ordered.

I got down and started to do push-ups. He corrected my stance and started me again. After twenty or so I simply could do no more.

"Pretty ordinary son." He said as he dropped and did fifty push-ups in a couple of minutes.

"I am twice your age son. We need to work on your fitness! You can use the gym here son. I expect you to be fit!"

"Now lets look at that hair." He said as he pushed me out of the gym without allowing me to put my t-shirt back on and back down the hallway to the room with the barber's chair.

He gripped me on my shoulders and pushed me to the mirror.

"Not too bad …." He said as he grabbed a comb and wet it.

He held my neck firmly as he ran the comb through my hair, correcting the part and fixing the quaff at the front, which had been dislodged when I did the push-ups.

"Mmmm .." he muttered to himself.

He grabbed a bottle with the name Vitalis on it and squirted some of the liquid onto his hand. He ran them through my hair. I noticed a new perfume as his big hands massaged my scalp firmly.

Then he repeated the combing, paying special attention to my part.

My hair was gleaming now.

I felt my heart pounding as he firmly combed the oil through my hair. Then he hit Brylcreem pump dispenser that sat on the bench by the mirror and a large dollop oozed out onto his hand.

I closed my eyes as I felt my whole body tingle and felt the grease going onto my already crèmed and oiled hair.

He massaged the Brylcreem into my hair. Messing the carefully combed locks. Taking his comb he commenced combing it from scratch.

"Son, I think you know you need to be here often for me to do this. To turn you into a proper greased boy. ..don't you son!"

"Yes sir!" I responded wholeheartedly. My body was electric. The heady perfume of Brylcreem and Vitalis and his firm hands were ecstasy.

He pumped more Brylcreem out of the dispenser and this time rubbed it into his own hair and combed it through until his hair was solidly greased and shining and immaculate.

"Enjoy watching me comb my hair son. Men wear grease son!" he said smiling at me.

I was shaking as told me "Time for you to crème some more son…" He grabbed my hand and pumped a large dollop of Brylcreem onto it.

"Come on son get that crème into your hair." He barked.

I massaged it into my already grease laden hair.

He handed me the comb, which he had wet under the tap, and I combed my hair into position, neatly parted and with the small quiff he had created when he cut my hair the day before.

"Son you are learning. You are becoming a real grease jockey, son. A real grease lover aren't you!"

"Yes Sir!" I exclaimed.

Cuttin' It
PART 3 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

I stood in front of the mirror. My hair thick and grease laden shone in the strong light of my barber's room.

I took in what I saw. He stood behind me in his white t-shirt and camouflage trousers, his black hair as shiny as the combat boots he wore. His firm hands on my shoulders made me feel secure but compliant.

I wanted to be like him.

"Son we need to work out a program for you. Do you work?"

"Yes Sir, I have a part time job in database programming with an agency. I do freelance work during the summer to help pay for college."

"Good, you are pretty free most of the time then?"

"Yes sir. At least until college commences in spring, sir."

"Well until then I want you here each day at 0800 Hours. We need to keep that hair greased and to get you fit. Have you any running gear?" He asked firmly.

"Yes sir. I have some shorts and running shoes although I haven't done much running in a long while."

"No problem son. You WILL be fit soon and you WILL be well greased at all times won't you son" He barked!

"Sir YES Sir!"

"Good attitude son. I think you will do well!" he said confidently.

"Do well at what sir?" I asked hesitantly.

He just smiled and said nothing but "All in good time son."

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Good they are here. Stay put son, I want you to meet some buddies of mine."

I heard the front door open and muffled voices only the words "Yes Sir" were clear.

I heard the distinctive sound of boots on the wooden floor of the hall.

"This is David." He said as he entered the room followed by two other men. It was the first time he had used my name.

They were my age I guessed and were dressed in full Marine Corps camo uniforms complete with "covers" as the Marines call their caps.

"David, this is Greg and John. They are from the local Marine Corps unit and sometimes come round to work-out or get their haircut." He said in a friendly way.

"At ease guys.." he said to them and they immediately relaxed, dropping their gym bags onto the floor at the same time.

No hair was showing below the line of their caps.

As they took their caps off I expected them to have Marine style buzzes but instead each man had very short parted hair like I now wore.

And it was heavily greased.

It was a bit surprising to see young marines with that style of cut but then it was even more surprising that I did also now.

"You guys look sharp." Sir said. "Good to see that grease. Want you looking sharp at all times!" he said.

The two men smiled almost sheepishly.

"John and Greg here have been greasing for nearly a year now. You two really like it don't you guys?"

"Sir YES Sir!" came the instant response in unison.

I was suddenly aware that I was naked from the waist up having left my t-shirt in the gym room.

"Sir.." I asked quietly "...can I get my t-shirt?"

"No, don't bother son. They guys don't mind seeing a half naked man, do you? I am sure they have seen one or two before." He laughed

"Yes Sir!" was the quick reply.

"Now guys, time for John and Greg to get some work done. They didn't come here to just stand around. You know where the gym is guys …get your asses down there and get working!"

John and Greg replied "Sir YES Sir!"

I heard the heavy stomping of their boots as they headed off down the hall.

"And son, I think it is time for you to get you act together and see what you are made of. I think you should join the guys in a gym session don't you?"

"Yes Sir." I said unsurely but knowing that I had no real choice.

He gripped me by the shoulders and we headed down to the gym room.

John and Greg had removed their uniforms and were dressed in their work-out gear.

Their red and gold USMC t-shirts and grey shorts showed off their muscular legs and arms.

They had neatly folded their uniforms and laid them carefully on top of their bags and were commencing push-ups as we entered the room.

"Ok! Son, throw off your shoes and take off your belt and get down and give me 50 push-ups with the guys. Don't worry about keeping up with them but just see how you go."

I did as I was ordered and sat on the hard wooden floor beside the two marines, who were doing push-ups at great speed.

He stood over me as I battled to do the push-ups. All I saw was a pair of highly polished boots in front of me. I nearly touched them each time as I dropped back down to the floor.

I struggled but finally managed my fifty push-ups as ordered.

By the time I had finished Greg and John were helping each other with sit-ups, taking turns at holding the others feet as they completed rep after rep.

I looked up. He was staring down at me with a slight smile on his face.

"You are a mess aren't you son? You need a lot of work!"

"Yes sir." I agreed meekly.

John and Greg finished their crunches and were working on weights, spotting for each other as they lifted them.

I could see sweat appearing on their faces and their immaculate hair was becoming messed up.

"Now son some cardio work for you…onto the bike we will give 15 minutes of work. It will help for starters!"

I did as ordered and with my own sweat running down my forehead I sat on the bike. He made some adjustments to the settings and looked on as I began peddling.

He must have set it for "easy" because it was not too hard ….at first anyway. But it began to get tougher as I worked. Sweat was pouring off me as I finally finished. The bike giving a soft beep to tell me my 15 minutes was done.

He stood beside me as I got off the exercise bike. I was exhausted. He looked at me knowingly.

"Son ..not too bad for beginner."

Meanwhile John and Greg were on the rowing machine. They seemed to have no problems at all with the tough routine they were doing.

"Now son, I suspect you need a few sit-ups to finish off with."

"Yes sir." I said even though I ached all over already.

"Get down on the floor and I will help you."

I did as required and he got down with me and holding my feet he gave me direction on how to do a crunch properly so I didn't hurt my back and then said, "Ok! Son, give me 25 for starters!"

I was feeling pretty ragged as I finally completed the twenty-fifth crunch.

He laughed and said "Ok! Son I think that is enough for you today. We will leave the guys to continue. I think you need shower don't you?"

I agreed.

He escorted me out of the gym room and further down the hall he showed me the bathroom.

It was slightly unusual. The shower was just set in one corner and toilet in the other. There was no screen 'round the shower or for that matter the toilet.

"Clean up and come back to the "barber-shop". You've got 10 minutes son." He said as he left me.

I stripped and jumped under the shower. I luxuriated in the hot water.

I turned around to see Greg come into the room and head for the toilet.

He smiled at me as he stood and did his business.

"He is pretty amazing isn't he." He said quietly.

I agreed as he said "John and I were just like you when we met him unfit and we were a bit un-focussed but he soon sorted us out!"

He finished up, washed his hands meticulously and with a smile headed out of the room.

As I dressed I heard boots clomping in the hallway, and assumed rightly that John and Greg were finished their workout and were moving back to the "barber-shop".

I returned the to "barber-shop" myself.

As I entered the room I was surprised to see John in the chair.

"Son, glad you could join us" the barber said. "John here is getting a tidy up." he smiled.

"Time for an introduction, I think." he said hovering 'round John with scissors.

"I am Colonel. George Reynolds USMC Retired and John and Greg are serving in the ROTC as State U."

He continued to snip and trim John's hair. Greg meanwhile was at "parade rest" watching every movement of the Colonel.

"The boys were like you. They came here unfit and ...well looking scruffy. They have become much more aware of keeping fit and their duty now son, as I am sure you will."

As he said this he had picked up a comb and was continuing to snip and trim John's hair.

"Yes sir." I replied compliantly.

He put down the scissors and with Greg and I watching lathered up John's neck and sides and then with a straight razor scraped away any hairs that were in the way.

he wiped off the remaining lather and picked up the spray bottle and wet John's hair. Then pumped a large dollop of the now familiar Brylcreem out of the dispenser and massaged it firmly into John's hair.

He pumped another dollop of creme and added it to John's now greasy locks.

He took the comb, as he had done for me, made a sharp parting and then combed John's hair into a very neat look.

"Mmmm...." He said. "Do you want some extra sheen John?"

"Sir YES Sir!" was John's instant response.

The Colonel picked up a bottle, of what I now know to be Californian Poppy, and added a liberal dose of the oil to John's hair and proceeded to re-comb it.

John's hair was gleaming. The light reflected off it like a mirror.

"There you are son ...all done." The Colonel said as he picked up a hand-mirror to show John the back and top of his head.

I could see John beaming in the mirror. His hair was thick and oiled solidly. His brown hair was slicked back without any bangs and of course shaved high on back and sides of his head.

It looked amazingly shiny with the crème and oil.

"Now you Greg!" The Colonel said with military rapidity as he pulled the cape off John.

John jumped out of the chair with one last look at the mirror and took Greg's place, standing at parade rest.

Greg immediately moved into the chair.

The work-out had left his hair in a bit of a mess but that would soon be sorted out.

"You need to work on that grease son. I think you need to make sure you use an extra dollop in future!" The Colonel said as he threw the cape around Greg.

"Now a decent tidy up I think." He said as he picked up the clippers.

The sound of buzzing filled the room.

The Colonel began by shearing Greg's hair very high …even higher than before. His black hair fell onto the cape leaving swathes of white skin behind.

"Son, we need to impress David here! He has a way to go before he is sharp as you two!" He smiled at me.

He continued clipping Greg's hair high on the back and sides.

He turned off the clippers and picked up a comb and scissors and blended the newly clipped back and sides into Greg's head hair.

Greg had almost no hair left on the back and sides at all.

The Colonel continued snipping and combing until he was happy with Greg's hair. It was very short but enough left on top to take greasing.

The Colonel picked up the familiar spray bottle and sprayed Greg's hair and mussed it up.

With a smile at me, he hit the creme dispenser and a huge dollop of Brylcreem spurted out. The thick white creem filled the Colonel's palm.

He massaged it very firmly into Greg's hair and then repeated the performance …another a large dollop of crème was added to Greg's already well greased hair.

"Remember son..." he said addressing Greg "…we need you to be extra greased in the future don't we!"

"Sir YES Sir!" Greg responded like a Marine should.

The Colonel then lathered up Greg's neck and sides and proceeded to shave them clean.

He grabbed his comb and finally combed Greg's top hair into the same neat style that all four of us now had.

"All done son!" He said as he removed the cape and Greg stood up.

"Thank you Sir." Greg said quietly.

"Ok! You two you are out of here. You have duty today so get your asses in order and get going!" The Colonel said. The two men saluted sharply and yelled "SIR YES SIR!

The Colonel eyed his two proteges and returned their salute with a sharp "Dismissed!" Greg and John put their "covers" back on, picked up their gym bags and marched out of the "barber-shop".

I heard their boots on the hall floor and then the front door close as they left.

The Colonel turned to me said "Well David I think we need to sort out don't we!".

"Sir YES Sir!" I responded.

He smiled and pushed me back into the barber's chair …..

Cuttin' It
PART 4 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

The Colonel turned to me and said "David you may have guessed I feel it my duty to take young men and help them find their true identity. I think you will agree that you wanted ...or at least needed what has happened of the last few days."

I sheepishly nodded agreement. "Yes Sir."

"I can see by the way you dress that you really have never cared much about how you looked or presented yourself. I have always found that men that don't care about their appearance don't think much of themselves son. I think you are better than that don't you?"

"Yes Sir…I hope so Sir." I said quietly.

"Son I can see you lack confidence but I am sure by the time we have been working together for a few weeks you will see many changes in yourself and will be far more confident!" He smiled at me.

"Now son let me have a look at you. That shower made a mess of your hair so into the chair and lets sort that out first up!"

"Sir YES Sir!" I responded gleefully…only too happy to feel his firm hands on my head again!

I jumped in the chair. I saw a broad grin on his face. "See son you already want to keep that hair properly combed and greased don't you!

"Sir YES Sir!

"He picked up his comb and spray bottle. He sprayed water into my hair and then putting the bottle down pumped a huge dollop of Brylcreem out of the dispenser. I knew my hair was about to get a really solid greasing.

He massaged the crème into my already well greased hair. I had become used to the feel of large hands on my scalp and the feeling of the firm massage he gave each time he added grease. He pushed the dispenser and yet another dollop of crème oozed out. He added it to my hair and massaged it in well.

Somehow the feeling of those hands made me feel secure. I trusted this man and wanted to please him.

He picked up the comb and neatly parted my hair, combing my hair back into the very sharp looking style he required me to wear.

He stood back and admired his work, before picking up the bottle of California Poppy and pouring a liberal amount into the palms of his hands. Again I felt his hands on my hair. It felt so good.

He worked the oil into my hair and then re-combed it into position so with of the crème and Vitalis from earlier my hair now shone like never before. It all made my hair just gleam.

"Ok! Son that is that done. How about some lunch?" The Colonel said almost rhetorically.

"uh …yes Sir." I answered suddenly aware that it was nearly 2pm and I was actually feeling hungry.

"Come on he get your act together and follow me!" he said heading for the door.

He led me to his study. The walls were covered in memorabilia from his days in the Marines. There were group photos of men in uniform, men on a shooting range, men in formal uniforms, medals and citations all neatly displayed in frames hung on the wall.

"Take a seat and I will get something to eat....pasta do you son?"

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir." I said sitting down in on a leather chair that proved to be very comfortable.

He left and I heard his boots walking down the hallway.

I noticed magazines and other material on the coffee table in the centre of the room. I browsed through them. They were all military magazines.

And the other material was recruiting pamphlets and enlistment forms.

I browsed through it and put it all down.

I was never really into the military thing.

I heard the ding of a microwave and a few minutes later the Colonel appeared with two bowls of steaming pasta.

"Son, have you any questions for me?" he said as he handed me a bowl.

"Not really Sir." I was actually rather stunned by the question.

My head was spinning. Over the past few days my whole world had been changed ...invaded almost, by this man.

"Son, we both know you feel un-focussed and in need of something and you are not sure what it is."

I nodded unable to verbally agree but knowing deep inside he was right. I was amazed how much he seem to understand me after only a couple of days.

"I have met young men like you before, son. Greg and John both sat in this room and had the same feelings but look at them now. They both know who they are and where they are going. I like to think I helped them. If you want I am willing to help you too. I do not promise you anything but I am willing to help you if you want."

I looked at him. His presence and attitude all said I could trust him.

"I would like that Sir." I said without even realising that I had automatically begun calling him "Sir".

"Good." He smiled. "I do promise you that if you are willing to work I am willing to work with you. We both know you need to get fit and to work on your appearance. Sloppy dress is a sign of laziness or lack of confidence. I hope it is the latter in your case."

"Yes Sir." I replied meekly between mouthfuls of the pasta.

"Tell me about yourself son. What are you studying and what work are you doing… you mentioned freelance computer work?"

"Sir, I am studying computer science at State U and I am doing some part time work for a computer agency. That is about it, Sir."

"And where do you live …in the dorms?"

"No Sir, I rent a small apartment on my own. The part time work pays the rent."

I noticed he smiled at this.

"And what do you do for relaxation…obviously you don't play sport?"

"Sir, I tend to just surf the 'net or watch TV or study."

"Well we need to work on that. I think you should consider taking up a sport. There is any number of clubs at State U you could join. And you will be doing some work outs here with the boys and me" He looked straight at me.

"Yes Sir." I complied.

"Now something about you parents? Are they nearby?"

"No Sir. They both have passed away, some years ago now."

"That is sad. Any brothers or sisters?" he said showing genuine concern.

"One sister Sir. She is married and lives back home."

"Well enough of that. Now son do you own a suit…collar and tie?"

"Yes Sir …but it is back home…I only wear it occasionally."

"Mmm…well I think we will start with this. Son we both know you need to improve your standard of dress don't we!

"Yes Sir."

"Ok! Come on, follow me ..." he said as he put down his pasta and headed out the door.

I followed behind him, his boots clomping loudly on the bare wooden floors.

We went upstairs and into a room that had floor to ceiling cupboards with mirrored doors.

The Colonel pushed one of the doors and it slid open to reveal a collection of suits hanging neatly inside.

He pulled one or two out before choosing a black one. He held it in front of me and smiled.

"Try this one son, for size. I think it should fit. But you will need a shirt…" he said as he handed me the suit.

He opened another door.

He pulled a shirt of the hanger. I could see it was white. He asked my neck size (15") and changed the shirt for another.

"And you will need some proper underwear I suspect. What do you normally wear?" He quizzed.

"umm …I wear briefs Sir." I said hesitantly.

"Well young men like you should wear boxers son ….and only white ones at that." He said as he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of neatly folded white boxers.

"These should fit. Thirty four inch waist I think." He said.

"Yes Sir" I responded slightly unsure where this was all going.

"And an athletic shirt too I suggest." He looked at me as he pulled a white tank top style athletic shirt from the another drawer.

"Now I think you should get dressed son. We want you looking good don't we?" he asked rhetorically.

"Yes Sir." Was my only possible response.

I felt very self-conscious as I took my t-shirt off.

He had laid the clothes out very precisely over a chair.

"And a tie …something suitably conservative for you son." He said as he thumbed through a range of ties in a drawer. All of them coiled neatly.

He selected on as I dropped my jeans and slowly removed my briefs, turning away from him as I did, so as to maintain some privacy. I felt suddenly like a little boy out shopping with my father.

I slipped on the boxers to reclaim some dignity. They felt odd. They were unusually long almost down to my knees but fitted my waist perfectly and they felt strangely stiff. I realised they were starched!

I pulled the athletic shirt on and then the shirt which was also very heavily starched and stiff.

The collar seemed unusually tall and forced my neck to be very straight.

He smiled at me as he watched me dress. I put the trousers on and began to feel very much the proper young man as he handed me the tie. It was simple striped tie in blue and gold.

"What is you shoe size son?" He asked firmly.

"9 Sir." I said knowing my Nikes had not met with his approval.

He opened another closet and from an array of shoe boxes he selected a pair of shoes for me along with some black socks from a drawer from the same closet.

It was extraordinary. He seemed to have a complete collection of clothes for me.

I wondered how many other young men had stood where I was now standing.

I finished dressing, pulling on the socks and shoes, which fitted perfectly and finally the suit coat.

I suddenly saw myself in the mirrored doors of the closets and I felt I should be off to church or a wedding or funeral.

I had been transformed into a very proper looking man.

He smiled. "Now that is how a young man should look David!"

"Yes Sir!" I said feeling very good in my "new" clothes.

"But you hair is a mess now. Come downstairs and we will fix that up!"

"Yes Sir!" I said already looking forward to feeling his hands running through my hair.

It really had been quite a day!

Cuttin' It
PART 5 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

We entered the "barber-shop" room once more.

The stiffness of the shirt and tie made me feel even more self-conscious.

I went to sit in the chair as the Colonel smiled and picked up the comb.

"No son, show me what sort of boy you are." He said as he handed me the comb.

He stood behind me, his large hands on my shoulders as I took the comb and ran it through my hair attempting get the parting as neat as he did.

I combed it carefully and then redid the quiff at the front. I looked in the mirror and saw a completely new image.

There was a man, looking well dressed in a suit and tie, with extremely short greased hair and I was that man.

The Colonel smiled at me and said "More grease son. Every time you comb you should add some more grease. You have to remember that you are a grease boy now!"

He pulled my hand under the dispenser and hit the plunger. A dollop of fresh Brylcreem surged onto my hand.

I ran it through my hair feeling the thrill of greasing up in his presence even though I could not really understand why.

My hair was thoroughly greased and shining as I combed it once more.

I stood back from the mirror and again took in the man standing there immaculately dressed in a suit and tie and with hair gleaming with grease.

I felt a strange surge in my manhood. I felt the power of the Colonel. I felt the power of being greased.

I knew that I would always be greased from now on.

I put down the comb and looked once more in the mirror.

I stood in my suit and tie feeling suddenly very different.

The Colonel had somehow changed me. I felt the power of being greased and dressed smartly in a way I had never before.

The Colonel smiled at me in the mirror.

"Ok! Son time for you to get your ass into gear! Time for you to head home. BUT be here at 0800 hrs tomorrow, greased and in your suit and tie."

"Sir, am I to keep the suit?" I looked questioningly at him.

"Yes son, a gift as long as you wear it when I ask!" he said in a commanding but friendly way.

"Now head off and be back at 0800 with your gym gear but in the suit and tie!"

I went to bed early. Somehow I was very tired after the day's events.

I set the alarm and woke at around 6.30am. I lay in bed and looked at my new suit hanging on the closet door.

I ran through the events of Sunday in my mind and the feeling of his hands on my shoulders, the feeling of being greased and my manhood began to respond.

I knew I had to be at the Colonel's home by 8.00am. .... 0.800hrs as he insisted on saying.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to shower and shave.

Then dressed in my new underwear, stood in front of the mirror and began the ritual of grease and comb.

I felt like a man from the 50's or was that a boy form that era? But the image in the mirror of a man in long white boxer shorts and white athletic shirt greasing his short hair and combing it into the neat parted style the Colonel required was making me feel very aroused.

I finished combing and then decided another dollop of crème would be required. I found myself combing and re-combing my hair in an effort to get the immaculate look the Colonel required.

I knew that I had to pass his inspection when I arrived. And, although I couldn't quite understand it, I did not want to disappoint him or worse fail his standards.

I had already washed the shirt and underwear he had given me and ironed the shirt and had rushed out to the supermarket to buy spray starch to ensure that the shirt was suitably crisp and sharp.

I looked once more at my hair in the mirror. It felt so good to be properly greased and oiled up for him.

I slipped on the white shirt and tie and then the suit.

I had prepared it all the night before. I had polished the black shoes as best I could. I could not quite get the shine they had when he gave them to me but still they shone like my hair.

I grabbed my gym bag and with one last glance in the mirror and one last combing of my greased hair I set out for the Colonel's.

As I got into the car I couldn't help looking in the rear vision mirror and found I just had to run my hand over my shiny smooth greased locks.

It was almost an unconscious act. It felt so right to be dressed properly and greased properly, as a young man should be.

Dead on 0800 hours ....8.00am to me, I hit the doorbell at the Colonel's.

The door opened. I was about to say "Good morning Sir!" when I realised it was Greg. It was a surprise to see him dressed as I was in a suit and tie. The white of his shirt almost dazzled me and his hair shone brilliantly in the early morning light.

"Hello David." He said offering me his hand. "Come in. The Colonel is waiting for you."

I smiled as he ushered me into the hall.

The Colonel was standing waiting for us. His hair caught my eye. It was, as expected solid with brilliantine and gleaming but he was dressed not for a run as I expected but in a dark grey suit with a white shirt and deep blue tie.

"Change of plan David." He said firmly.

"Greg has a job on Mondays and there is an offer for you too if you are interested?" he said with a smile.

"Well maybe sir? What is it?" I replied rather casually, not really interested in giving up too much of my summer break.

"Son, I think you should always be more positive about the offer of employment!" the Colonel responded in a voice that I had not heard before. It was clear I would have no choice in the matter!

"Yes Sir." I replied meekly. "What is the job sir?"

"Oh! Just some office work for a friend of mine. He employs young men in his law firm to do some basic filing and typing. How are your keyboard skills son?"

"Not too bad Sir. I mean I use a computer every day Sir."

"Well this is more about speed and accuracy son. I am sure you will be fine."

He smiled at me "Now let's have a look at you. Not bad, but your shoes need some work or rather your shoe polishing skills do.

But you will pass for today. But I expect better next time!" he barked in a strong military voice.

"Yes Sir!"

"Now I think a quick tidy up of that hair for you two before we head off." The Colonel said ushering Greg and I into his barber-shop.

"Ok! Son, you know the drill." The Colonel said as I stood in front of the mirror with the colonel behind me once more. His big hands on my shoulders as I picked up the comb, ran it under the tap and began to comb my hair.

"SON! Stop!!" He barked.

"You know that you always add extra crème when you comb!!"

Shaking I put my hand under the Brylcreem dispenser and he pushed the plunger and a large dollop of fresh crème spurted onto my hand.

I massaged it into my hair and recommenced combing.

The Colonel grabbed the comb from me and smiling said "as I said not bad David, but it is always better to have a friend help."

He handed the comb to Greg, who smiled.

He neatly parted my hair and completely the combing with a quick re-quiffing of my front hair.

"Now son you should return the favor!" The Colonel said quietly looking Greg and me straight in the eye.

He grabbed a clean comb from the jar of blue disinfectant and running under the tap handed it to me.

Greg smiled at me and grabbed some crème from the dispenser and massaged it into his short brown hair.

Nervously I began to comb Greg's very short hair. There was almost no hair on the sides or back of his head but enough to comb over on top leaving a very neat parting on the right side.

Greg smiled at me in the mirror.

The strange feeling in the room gave me goosebumps. It was a sense of closeness to men that I had not felt ever before.

The Colonel watched every move, every movement of the comb I made. He was smiling as he said "David, welcome to the brotherhood of grease."

I finished combing Greg's hair. "Thank you David." Greg said intensely.

"Gentlemen time to get moving." The Colonel said in his military voice as he moved us out of the house and into his car.

Ten minutes later we drew up at a small, nondescript office building. To the right was a door to a flight of stairs.

The three of us soon arrived at a door at the top of the stairs. The door was half-frosted glass with the name "Rogers, Williams & Longman - Attorneys at Law" stencilled in old style gold lettering on it.

Greg opened the door. A young man behind the counter smiled at us. He was dressed identically to Greg and I in white shirt and tie and with the same short haircut shining with grease.

"Good morning Colonel, Major Rogers is expecting you." He said happily as he opened a door behind him.

The Colonel ushered Greg and I passed the counter and though the open door.

I almost gasped at what I saw.

The scene was like something from a 1950s movie.

There were rows of desks with typewriters on them and behind each one sat a young man busily pounding the keys. Each dressed like Greg and I, with white shirts and ties and hair cut very short and gleaming with grease.

"Good morning Colonel!" they said in unison.

"Good morning gentlemen!" the Colonel responded with military briskness.

"David, I am Major Andrew Rogers!" a voice said.

I turned and saw a man about the Colonel's age. Like the Colonel he had something about his bearing that immediately indicated that he was ex military.

He was dressed in a dark blue suit and like the rest of the men in the office a white shirt and tie. I was drawn to his haircut, which was atypically a USMC high n tight with hardly any hair on top but what was left was glinting with Brylcreem.

"Welcome to Rogers, Williams & Longman!"

Cuttin' It
PART 6 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

"Come into my office David. You can meet the rest of the men after we have a chat and if you have decided if you want to work with us." Major Rogers said ushering me into his office.

It was quite large and old fashioned with dark wood panelling and a large wooden desk against the back wall.

A leather chair sat behind the desk.

The Colonel followed us in.

"Colonel Reynolds has told me that you have become quite a good at greasing like a young man should be. It has only been a week or so hasn't it?

"Yes Sir."

"Well I like my staff to be look sharp at all times. I find that a man who takes care in his personal appearance takes care with his work!"

"Now let me look at you...mmm....not bad....shoes could be better but I am sure you know that ...?"

"Yes Sir." David replied sheepishly

"At least your hair is reasonable....as is your suit and tie. I think a young man such as you should always wear white shirts. They show that you are interested in making a good impression and they do look good on you." Rogers continued.

David noticed the Colonel smiling as the Major inspected his latest protégé.

"Now, David, I am looking for a personal assistant. The Colonel here thinks that you have that capacity. Do you?"

"I don't know Sir? What would it entail?" David replied unsure of his abilities.

"I am looking for a young man who can assist me with my appointments, act as my secretary, do the some research work and assist me in my personal grooming needs. Are you up to that David?"

"Sir...your personal grooming needs?" David answered quizzically.

"I need a young man to help me look smart son. I need someone who can assist me in the morning when I have early appointments. I am often here very late and sleep in the office. I have a suite here with a bathroom and bed and need someone to ensure that I have shined shoes, laundered shirts and freshly pressed suits available and can assist me dress especially if I am in a hurry. Do you think you can manage that. It may mean that sometimes you will need to stay here at night. It may be a little demanding but I do pay well son."

"Sir, if you think I am capable I will give it a try."

"Be more confident David." The Colonel said quietly.

"Yes Sir. I can do this."

"Good boy!" The Major replied warmly.

"One thing son is that I do expect my personal assistant to be very careful with his dress. I will expect ...I will accept only perfection son. Can you accept that?"

"Yes Sir. I will try Sir."

"Son, you will not try, you just will!" The Colonel said commandingly.

"Good. You can help me get ready for a meeting with one of my most demanding clients." The Major responded.

"I need to sort out some clothes and then have a shave and show you how I want you to help me get ready."

•

I found myself standing alone in the Major's "suite". It comprised a bedroom and bathroom. The entire side of one wall was taken up a mirrored door closet.

The room was sparsely furnished, just a bed and some exercise equipment.

Off it was the bathroom. It was spotlessly clean.

The Major was showering then as I heard the water stop he called to me from the bathroom.

"David, come in here for a moment will you..."

The Major stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He had only a white towel round his waist. His fine pecs gleamed in strong light in the bathroom.

"David, I need you to help shave me." He said as he sat down in the chair that was in front of the mirror.

"I have never shaved anyone else Sir" I responded.

The Major looked up at me, handed me a razor and smiled. "Well there is a first time for everything in a man's life son."

He picked up the can of shaving cream and sprayed a large dollop into my hands. He took my hands in his and spread the lather over his face and the sides and back of his head.

"Now lets get a move on. I have a meeting in 30 minutes."

I rather timorously began to shave the Major's chin. I was scared that I might cut him ...or nearly as bad, miss some of his beard.

"It is ok! Son, take it quietly, nothing to be afraid of..." he said reassuringly.

I felt the warmth of his freshly washed face and the lather as bit by bit I scraped away his beard.

He gripped my hand. It felt so firm and directed me to start shaving the sides of his head. His extreme high n tight was shaved high on the sides.

"Son, I shave the sides of my head daily. You will get used to doing this for me....." he said has he guided me over the sides of his head. High and higher I went with the razor. The lather felt soft and smooth between my fingers as I shaved the sides of the Major's head.

I caught his eye watching me in the mirror. He smiled "Son you are doing well." It felt wonderful to be told this. For some reason I found I wanted to impress the Major.

He took my hand and removed the razor. He finished the shave. Smiling at me in the mirror.

"You really have done well David."

He handed me a towel and I wiped the lather clean as he carefully inspected his now shaved face and head in the mirror.

He took the razor and made a few small touch ups and then looking me straight in the eye and said "Now son let me see how good you are at greasing a man!"

His hair was still damp from his shower. He grabbed a jar with a strange orange wax in it and opening it he pushed my fingers into the stuff.

"Son, this is a pomade. It is very stiff. It holds my hair nice and stiff."

For some reason I was suddenly aware of how hot the bathroom was. I was perspiring and I was feeling something stirring inside me....deep in side me.

The feeling was weird ....the Major seemed to exude confidence and power but I could not explain it.

I pushed the goop into the little hair left on his head. There was only a small amount not shaved off. It formed a horseshoe round the front of his head and was only about 1/4" long and cut rigorously into a flattop.

The Major watched as I massaged the goop into his hair.

"That's it son. Get that stuff into it. I want my hair properly sharp." He said fiercely.

I finished pushing the stuff into his hair and I picked up a comb. I began combing his hair into place. The goop certainly made it stiff and very shiny.

I looked at him. He was the picture of a physical man. His body was lean and his greased hair shone giving a supersharp look.

"Now son we add some Brylcreem. Get some out of the dispenser and show me what you can do!"

I pushed the Brylcreem dispenser and a huge dollop came out. I added it to his hair making it even shinier.

Again I combed it into place. His hair now shone like a mirror.

He stood up, turned his head from side to side in front of the mirror. "Not bad son...not bad at all."

"Now you boy. Your hair needs some more grease doesn't it?"

I grabbed a clean comb from the top of the counter in front of the mirror and ran it under the tap. I ran the wet comb through my hair. I was shaking as I pushed the dispenser and received another dollop of crème.

I pushed it onto my hair. The Major's eyes watching my every move. "Come on boy show me how much of a greaser-boy you are. You know I expect you to be properly greased at all times. You have to be greased. You need it don't you son?

"I found I had to agree. "Yes Sir."

I combed and re-combed my hair back into position. It was full of grease. It felt good to be doing this in front of the Major for some reason, much like the feeling of doing it in front of the Colonel. It gleamed in the bathroom lights. I felt strangely hot..flushed almost.

He smiled at me approvingly. "Not bad son, you will make a good greaser-boy."

With that he walked back into the bedroom. As he did, he dropped the towel.

The back of his beautifully toned body was framed by the door. His hair glinting in the soft light of the bedroom.

"Come on son ...get your ass in here ...." He said as he turned to face me.

"There is something I know you want to do ....."

Cuttin' It
PART 7 OF A SERIAL

by Chris Creemer

I had assisted the Major in dressing and he left for his meeting, leaving me to tidy up his room and the bathroom.

But the events in the Major's room left me overwhelmed. I had been certain of my manhood before but now .....

As I was finishing the Colonel walked into the room. He had changed his clothes and was in BDUs and combat boots, just as he had been at our first meeting.

"David, I hope you are ok! I think you now have a clear idea of your duties here. I trust you will not let me down."

"No Sir." I responded still shaken.

"And I can see that you haven't tidied yourself up. You need to sort out that hair boy, NOW!!!"

He pushed me into the bathroom. Holding me firmly around the waist he positioned me in front of the mirror.

The feeling of his hands on me somehow was re-assuring given that my head was still spinning from what I had just done with ....and for the Major.

"Now, boy we can sort out that mess!"

He opened the jar of pomade and grabbed a large dollop of the thick wax.

He pushed it into my hair. I felt totally under his control as he massaged the goo into my already well greased hair.

Grabbing a comb, he ran it under the tap and handed it to me.

" Boy, you know what to do by now!" He said in the commanding way to which I was now familiar.

In a haze of mixed emotion I had failed to notice that I was now being addressed both by the Colonel and Major as "boy".

I began combing under the intense gaze of the Colonel. I knew I had to do it properly. I had to ensure every hair was well combed into place. There were no excuses now. I was well practiced greaserboy.

He watched my every stroke of the comb as I combed and re-combed my hair into place.

He smiled as I automatically almost unconsciously grabbed for the Brylcreem dispenser.

"Good boy you know you need a lot more crème in that hair son!"

"Do it son ..get that hair crèmed.....you need to be a good greaserboy for me don't you!!"

'SIR YES SIR!!!" I responded.

"Come on son get it greased!!" He barked as I added another dollop of soft white perfumed crème to my hair.

"No excuses for not being properly greased now boy. You know that don't you?" He demanded.

'SIR YES SIR!!!"

"No excuse not to be properly dressed at all times boy is there?"

SIR No SIR!"

"Boy you have the need to serve your superiors as a proper greaserboy don't you!

"SIR YES SIR!!!"

"You want to learn how to serve don't you boy?"

"SIR YES SIR!!!"

As I shouted my responses I was aware that I was really wanting to do as the Colonel said....ordered me to do.

The feeling was weird but undeniable.

Whatever he meant by "serve" was irrelevant I just wanted to do what was required.

He gripped my hand and guided it back to the dispenser. I added more Brylcreem to my head as he took the comb and re-combed my already gleaming locks.

The feeling of male power in his presence was undeniable. His immaculate regulation taper, the grease, the muscular arms holding me made it impossible for me to resist his orders.

I wanted to obey ...to do anything to gain his approval...anything to avoid his admonishment...I wanted to serve.

"Boy, the Major is impressed with you. Are you willing to serve him now you know your duties?

"SIR YES SIR"

"In serving him you serve me!"

"SIR YES SIR"

I could feel something pulsing through me. A sense of acceptance and release.

I felt his hands move to my shoulders as I finished combing.

He spun me around and looked deep into me with his piercing eyes. "You are doing well boy. You hair looks like man's hair should. A man who is now a greaserboy."

I smiled, I think, at the recognition that I was now what the Colonel wanted me to be.

I did not know where it was leading but I was somehow gripped by a sense that my life had changed.

"Now boy, time to get you into the proper gear to serve the Major!"

He pushed me out of the bathroom and back into the Major's bedroom.

The Colonel moved the large closet that filled one wall of the room.

He pushed one of the mirrored doors. It slid open and revealed a bank of drawers and hanging space.

He pulled open one of the drawers and retrieved a black t-shirt and from the hanging space a pair of camouflage BDU trousers and from beneath them a box.

"Boy, time to get you out of your business gear into your duty gear. From now on you will wear duty gear when with the Major. Is that understood!"

"Yes sir." I repsonded.

"Waaaaht?" he angrily barked.

"Better boy. All commands are to be properly answered!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

"Now strip and get into your proper duty gear."

I started to undress. Carefully removing my tie and shoes and shirt and trousers.

I slipped on the black t-shirt, having removed the white one I had under my shirt and tie.

I pulled on the BDUs. They felt strange, stiff and form hugging unlike I expected.

The Colonel threw me some green combat socks which replaced the black socks I was wearing

He handed me the black combat boots.

"Boy, you will soon get used to wearing them ...polishing them to the required shine." He said as I laced up the boots and he showed me how to "blouse" the bottoms and then he handed me a web belt for my new BDUs.

"The Major and I have high standards for you to achieve. Standards you WILL achieve!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

"From now on failure will not be tolerated boy. You will soon learn it doesn't pay to fail!"

"SIR No SIR!"

"Good, you understand your position boy!"

"SIR YES SIR!"

"Now your hair is a mess again ..get into the bathroom and fix it NOW!!!

"SIR YES SIR!"

I almost ran to the bathroom. I grabbed a comb and ran it under the water and re-combed my hair adding a small dollop of creme to ensure it met with the Colonel's approval.

"Hurry up in there boy!" came the Colonel's voice from the bedroom.

I finished up and returned to the bedroom.

The Major had returned and he too was dressed in black t-shirt and BDUs like the Colonel. Like the Colonel, his boots shone like mirrors.

They stood, their hands on their hips staring intensely at me. Again I felt the surge that came whenever I was with them.

"Boy get your ass over here ...you have a job to do!"

What direction should the next installment take? The author wants you suggestions. You can mail them to us and we will forward them to Chris. mail to: slickville@slickville.com